The Hanyou, the Houshi, and the Hot Spring
by prpl pen
Summary: Miroku gets a little too close for Inuyasha's comfort. Written for AubreyWitch. ONESHOT.


**The Hanyou, the Houshi, and the Hot Spring**  
**(with Liberal Amounts of Sake)**

It was true, Inuyasha was not accustomed to drinking. Still, somehow the jug of warm sake Miroku had been gifted with had been mighty enticing, and its appeal was growing the more he drank. He and Miroku had half-finished it off by the time the monk suggested a dip in a convenient hot spring before rejoining their companions. Inuyasha agreed, looking forward to relaxing a bit longer. And drinking, of course. They still had half a jug left, after all.

Lulled by the heat of the water and the pleasant warmth of the sake in his belly, it took him some time to register an unfamiliar touch.

Inuyasha turned slowly, squinting until Miroku came into focus. "Did--did you just grope me?"

Miroku blinked stupidly for a moment. "Hmm?" He lifted his right hand and looked at it as if he were seeing it for the first time. "Maybe," he said, after a short deliberation. Prayer beads clacked as he waved the offending hand in the air. "S'this hand. Cursed, you know."

Inuyasha nodded. He knew. "But I think," he said carefully, furrowing his brows, "I _think_ it was your other hand. In fact, I _think_ it's still there." He suddenly seemed to realize exactly what he was saying and frowned. "Hey! Get your hand off my ass, you bastard." There was no real anger in it. Frankly, he was too bemused to be properly angry right now.

"Oh." A pause, and the hand was removed. "Sorry. Accident. It's dark, you know? More sake?" Miroku didn't wait for an answer, pouring out the beverage into two small porcelain cups and passing one over to Inuyasha.

"Dark? There's no one else here!"

"Well, what's a little show of affection between friends? Comrades-in-arms. S'what we are. Pals." Tipping back his head, the monk finished off his sake in one gulp.

Inuyasha downed his cup of the rice wine as he tried to work out the exactly why this answer didn't satisfy him. He mulled it over slowly, looking for the fatal logic flaw he knew was there. Wait a minute. He had it. "But," he said, "we're both men."

Miroku flapped a dismissive hand. "A minor detail."

"But," Inuyasha stated, a little more firmly this time, "_we're both men_."

"Ah." Miroku grabbed the empty container from Inuyasha's hand and poured out for them again, managing to get most of the sake in or around the cups. "That's the beauty of it." He passed Inuyasha a cup and raised the other to his lips, sipping delicately. Inuyasha waited a bit for Miroku to continue, but the monk seemed to have lost his train of thought.

"What is?" Inuyasha prompted, after what seemed an appropriate amount of time.

"Hmm?"

"The beauty of it?"

Miroku looked genuinely puzzled for a moment, murmuring quietly to himself as he tried to regain the thread of the conversation. His face lit up. "Oh! Yes. That's the beauty of it, y'see?" He raised both hands and wiggled his fingers--dropping his now-empty sake cup in the process--a conspiratory grin on his face. "Sango can't get mad."

"Eh?" This wasn't quite the brilliant justification Inuyasha had been anticipating.

"Because," Miroku said with infinite patience (and barely slurring his words at all), "when it comes to other women, Sango is...touchy. She doesn't like me frat--fratna-, uh–"

"Groping?" Inuyasha offered helpfully.

"Fraternizing," Miroku managed to enunciate. "Tha's the word." He put on a serious face. "It gets hard sometimes, controlling this hand." He stared back and forth between the two hands before his face and finally flexed the fingers of the right one, holding it up for inspection. "S'cursed, you know. It came to me, though. Dunno why I didn't see it before. _I'm_ a man, _you're_ a man...Sango's a woman. And Kagome-sama is, too. Shippou...isn't, though I must admit that girly bow he wears threw me off at first..."

Inuyasha blinked. He seemed to be having a hard time following Miroku tonight. He was beginning to wonder if he might be a little bit drunk. "Kirara's a girl. I think," he said, to cover his confusion.

Miroku gave him an odd look, then shook his head. "The point is, you're _not_ a woman. So, s'okay to fraternize. Sango can't get mad." He gave a triumphant smile. "So simple. Dunno why I didn't see it before..." he repeated to himself.

Inuyasha frowned as he went over this logic. "So..." he began, "you groped me on purpose, then?"

"No! No, of course not. Well...maybe a little."

Inuyasha shook his head in disbelief. "Perverted monk."

"You wound me!"

"You _groped _me!"

"Think of it assa compliment. You should feel flattered." Miroku smiled winningly and held out the jug of sake as a peace offering.

Inuyasha snatched it and downed the last few drops. "Yeah, well," he muttered, "that better be the only thing I feel. You touch my ass again and I'll..." He trailed off, unable to think of a suitable threat. The smug smile on Miroku's face gave him fresh inspiration. "I'll tell Sango."

Miroku wilted, the color draining from his face. "It won't happen again," he sighed.


End file.
